Booty Call: Feelings Not Included

Last Tuesday, after a long, strenuous trip down to Atlantic City, I was curled up in bed, relaxing in front of the tube, when my cell buzzed. It was 12:35 a.m.  I grabbed my phone off my night stand and took a glance. I was pleasantly surprised to see a text from a lady friend of mine whom I had not had sex with yet. It read: "Are you still up?”

I knew immediately what she wanted.

Considering that a busy day of work was only six hours away, I quickly had to decide if I should  a) drop the hammer on this girl and stay up dealing with the aftermath: walking her to a cab, maybe getting stuck watching TV, and getting to sleep at around 4-ish; or b) not reply, and save that get-out-of-jail card for another evening.

I’m guessing you've already figured out that I chose the first option. I texted back, “Why, yes I am : ) ..."

Now, I know some of you might be thinking that adding a smiley face to my reply was a little cheesy, and maybe you're right, but only partially. I believe that subtle acts of cheesiness force a girl to think, “Aw, what a nice guy!”  So, go ahead and laugh if you think I'm wrong or if you think I’m making too much of a smiley face. But I put the damn smiley face in the text and it’s too late to go back and take it out!

“I’m a couple blocks from your apartment," she quickly replied. But — get this — I soon found out that was a lie, because before I could even attempt to throw on my silk robe and slippers, she was downstairs on the buzzer.

I let her in, and before I could say hello, her clothes were on the floor and we were under my sheets. I did my usual foreplay: I started with her neck, ran my hand along her inner thigh, and then I spent a good 3-5 minutes with my tongue in her ear. (If executed correctly, the tongue-in-the-ear trick is a one-way ticket to the promised land. If executed incorrectly, you could come off as a golden retriever searching for leftovers.) Considering I wrote the book on the tongue-in-the-ear trick, her panties were dangling from my lamp in no time.

The sex? Unbelievable! Seriously, I went from dozing off in my bed, to a full-blown work-out session.  We must have accomplished 4-5 different positions. Plus, she slapped me twice and I had sex with her feet.  I know, I know — shit got straight-up freaky. But, all that aside, she ended up being quite the booty call — she was good, didn’t over-do her stay, and was out of the apartment within the hour.

That was last week, and since then we've dropped occasional pointless texts like “How’s your day?” and “Some weather today, huh?”  Then, this morning I received a text from her that I wasn’t prepared for: “Really? Like, really? You’re just going to let me come over, have sex, and then not call?”

Now, before I tell you what I wrote back, I have to say that this, my friends, is where I think I’m right and anyone who hits people up for booty calls and expects more than just sex is WRONG. I am hereby officially declaring it an unofficial rule that when a girl decides to text or call me after 12:00 a.m., with the sole purpose of getting laid, she does not have the right to demand feelings in addition to sex. And she certainly doesn't have the right to pretend that I used her.

I mean, c'mon! She used me! She knows damn well it was a booty call. This I know because when I offered her cab money at the end of the night, the exchange that followed was brutally weird — almost like as if I had just paid for a hooker.

So, when I got her text today, I was taken aback. But only momentarily.

I knew that getting mad wouldn't benefit either one of us, so I humored her. “Really? Like, really?" I texted back. "You’re just going to come over, fuck me, and not even stay to cook me breakfast in the morning?"

Oh, and I added the damn smiley face again, too. I suspect it'll work like a charm.